Rogan is overjoyed when he discovers Julian alive. He has so many questions. Where has Julian been? Why hasn't he come home? What are the long scars on his body? But most importantly, why is Julian running away from him?
Stricken with grief, Rogan takes a dangerous path that almost ends his life. Only by Julian's swift intervention is he saved. Rogan finally comes to accept that his mate will never want him only to have Julian decide it's time to come home.
But someone else doesn't want Julian and Rogan reunited and they will use anything to keep the two men apart, even if it means Julian's death for real this time. Between keeping each other safe and trying to solve the mystery of who wants Julian dead, they barely have time to learn to love each other. Will what they feel for each other make
them stronger or be their downfall?
EXCERPT:
Prologue…
"I'm innocent!" he raged. "You can't punish me without evidence."
"We have all of the evidence we need, Julian Gallagher," Elder Belikov replied, shaking his head as if displeased by Julian's protest. "You have been found guilty of one of the worst crimes a clan member can commit, the crime of betrayal."
"I didn't betray anyone!" Julian shouted.
"The evidence says otherwise."
"The evidence is wrong. I am innocent of the charges brought against me. I would never do anything that brought harm to my clan, no matter what the evidence says." Julian had to make these men see reason. He didn't betray his clan. He would never betray his clan. "If you'd just listen to me—"
"Enough!" Elder Belikov shouted as he held up his hand.
Julian felt the ominous silence that fell over the small area like a lead weight around his neck. He glanced from one man to the next until he had looked into the faces of all five and knew he was doomed. They weren't ready to listen to reason.
"This is wrong!" Julian shouted. He could see another man pull something from the fire pit and walk toward him. He started to struggle between the two large council enforcers that held him.
"Maybe you should have thought of that before you betrayed your clan, Julian."
"I didn't betray my clan."
"That is not the decision of this council.
"Council?" Julian sneered. "This isn't a council, it's a joke."
Julian grunted as Elder Belikov stepped forward and backhanded him across the face. He licked at the trail of blood the dribble from his split lip and looked up to glare at the man. "Like I said, a joke."
"You, Julian Gallagher, have been found guilty by this council. You will be taken from this place, stripped of your position as Alpha of your clan, punished as befitting your crime and status."
"Punished?" Julian's struggles stopped as he swallowed hard. "Don't you mean attacked?"
"It is the decision of this council that you be punished, Julian Gallagher. You're name will be stricken from all recorded records. No clan will accept you into their midst or acknowledge your existence from this day forward."
"You can't do this," Julian whispered. "I have a mate. What's to become of him?"
The frown that covered the man's face sent a chill of foreboding down Julian's spine. He wasn't going to like what he elder had to say and he knew it.
"Where is this mate, Julian?" the elder asked as he waved his hand around the small area. "Why does he not stand by your side to defend you?"
Julian didn't have an answer for that. He knew his mate was deep in the closet and having a hard time coming to terms with their mating. But they were mated, destined to be together. Rogan should have been here.
"What is the name of this supposed mate?"
Julian pressed his lips firmly together. If he was to be punished and banished, he refused to drag his mate down with him. Rogan was everything in the world to him, more precious to him than even the clan he governed. He would no more betray his mate then he would betray his clan.
"That’s what I thought," the man said after several minutes of silence. "No clan member would leave his mate to face the council all alone. As the mate you say you have is not standing here then I can only assume he does not exist or he believes you to be as guilty as we do."
Julian inhaled sharply and struggled to back away when the man from the fire held out a small metal bowl to Elder Belikov. The liquid inside splashed around and Julian got his first good look at the torture he was about to endure.
"This is wrong," Julian cried out desperately. "I can't be found guilty without a trial."
"You lost your right to a trial when you betrayed your clan."
"I didn't betray my clan!" Julian shouted but his words seem to fall on deaf ears. The men holding his arms forced him down to his knees. Julian grunted when someone grabbed a handful of his hair and jerked his head back.
"Julian Gallagher, you have been found guilty of the crime of betrayal." Elder Belikov spoke the formal words of the council but Julian knew he was just doing it for the men surrounding them. Elder Belikov never cared a wit about the rules of the council. He cared about power, his power.
"The council will punish you for this."
"Dear boy." Elder Belikov chuckled. "I am the council."
Julian felt the first cut before Elder Belikov's words had even left his ears. He jerked and tried to pull away, refusing to utter a sound. He wouldn't give Elder Belikov the satisfaction of hearing him beg. As the second and then the third cuts were made across his skin, Julian wondered how long he could keep that promise to himself, especially when he saw the evil grin on Elder Belikov's face.
Julian's eyes widened when the bowl of liquid silver was brought closer to him. He felt true fear for the first time since he had been kidnapped from his bed in the middle of the night. Shifters didn't heal from silver.
White hot agony filled Julian as liquid silver was poured over the cuts made in his skin moments before. He gritted his teeth and stiffened, trying to ride out the pain. But the agony continued, growing worse with each passing moment. The kicks and punches added to his torture between cuts only increased his pain.
Julian's mind began to wander as one ache melted into another. He didn't understand why he had been picked by Elder Belikov to be tortured and he'd never have a chance to ask. Julian doubted he'd survive his injuries.
Julian was saddened by that knowledge. He'd never get to see his mate again, to hold the man in his arms or feel his sweet kiss. He'd never get to convince his mate to come out of the closet and live side by side with him.
Julian could only hope that Elder Belikov never learned the name of his mate. Julian had no doubt that the elder was evil enough to go after him. As much as he regretted it, Julian could die happy knowing his mate was safe.
Julian looked up through glossy eyes when he heard Elder Belikov's low laugh. The man really was just too happy. He had a right to be. There wasn't an inch of Julian's body that didn't scream in agony.
"You will pay for this, Belikov," Julian whispered.
"You might be right, dear boy, but not before your mate does." Belikov chuckled then leaned in close to Julian's hear. "Rogan, isn't that his name?"
~ * ~
And coming on May 14, 2011 from Silver Publishing & Rie McGaha:
Calen - Book 1 My Soul To Keep
Blurb:
When Calen MacLeod begins having dreams of an ethereal beauty who beckons to him, he passes it off as just having an itch he hasn't scratched in a long time. But when he leaves on a journey to find her, following the directions she's given him in his dreams, he begins to doubt his sanity. And when he finds himself high in the Mackinaw Mountains in a secret fortress with unicorns and a pink and white castle, surrounded by women, each one more beautiful than the next, it's a fantasy no man would want to wake up from. But Arianna is the only woman for Calen.
The women of the Fortress have lived in peace, hidden away from the humans who tried to annihilate them all. But now a 500-year-old demon is out to destroy the women's matriarch, Ariella, and he'll stop at nothing to complete his mission. When Calen MacLeod shows up, he throws a wrench into Damon's plans. Never let it be said Damon isn't ready for anything, but when he kidnaps Arianna and takes her to modern day San Francisco, is he ready to meet Calen, who will stop at nothing to save his ladylove?
Excerpt:
Calen dipped under the water to rinse and came up with a splash, and almost choked when he saw her standing at the water's edge, staring at him. Afraid to move a muscle, he feared she'd disappear if went toward her. He watched, mesmerized as she raised her hands and slipped the thin gown off her shoulders, letting it pool on the ground at her feet. He made a strangled sound as he drank in the sight of her nude body. Never had he seen anyone so beautiful. She took one slow, careful step at a time until she stood less than arm's length from him. Silent and still, he held his breath.
She reached out to him, placed her hand on his bare chest, and let her fingers slide beneath the water over his stomach. He placed his hand over hers and stepped into her. Reaching for her, he touched her silky hair, and let his fingers fall to her shoulders. She was so small, he thought as he looked down at her, the water that barely reached his ribcage rose to her chest, causing her breasts to float and making hard peaks of her nipples.
He grasped her around the waist and lifted her to him. Her hands laced around his neck, weaving through his hair as his mouth met hers and he drank. She opened to him with a sigh and wrapped her legs around his waist. His hands fisted in her hair, pulling her head back as he took the kiss deeper. The air sizzled and popped, the earth tilted, and the wind whipped the branches of the trees. Desire ripped through him, and he pressed her, demanded more from her, and she gave willingly.
His mouth bruised hers as their tongues mated, and his hands slid down her back, over her bottom, and he lifted her. The tip of his hardness pressed against her; with one movement he could be buried deep inside of her. A growl rose from his chest as he fought the urge to slam into her. He would not take her like this, not the first time. So he forced himself to break the kiss, to pull back, and sucked in a lung-full of air. She tilted her head as he looked into her eyes.
"Not like this," he said on a ragged breath and carried her through the water to the bank. He scooped up the gown she'd worn and carried her to the bed he'd made by the fire. He set her on the pallet and used a clean shirt to dry her, then slid under the blanket and pulled her in close to him. She curved into his body like she'd been made for him. He rose on one elbow and looked deep into her eyes.
"I don't even know your name." He kissed her forehead, her eyelids, and her cheeks.
"Arianna," she said softly.
"Arianna." He repeated her name reverently, like a prayer.
He kissed her again, gently, and sucked her bottom lip into his mouth. Her breasts pressed against his chest, and the kiss went deeper. She followed him, kissing him back like it was something they'd done time after time. Moving his hand down her body, over her flat stomach, and down her legs to the soft flesh of her inner thighs, his fingers searched, until she shifted, and he found the center of her heat. He moved a finger over her, and the downy hair parted for him as she raised her hips to him.
While gently stroking her clitoris, he watched her face. She gasped, and her eyes flew open. Gazing into her clear, blue eyes, he continued to stroke her. When she gave in to the sensation, her eyes glazed, and he slipped a finger inside her. His tongue flicked over his lips, then he kissed her again, while she wrapped her fingers in his hair and lifted her hips, writhing beneath him. Stroking the taut little nub, he brought her ever closer to the edge, until she dug her nails into his skin and arched beneath him, shouting her release.
Moving up her body, he sucked a nipple into his mouth and laved it gently as he positioned himself between her legs. When she looked up at him from beneath thick lashes, a contented smile curving her lips he slid into her slowly, stopping when she gasped. He kissed her temples, inhaled the scent of her hair, and forced himself to remain still until she relaxed again. He entered her little by little, stopping when he met the barrier of her virginity.
"It's going to hurt you," he whispered hoarsely. "I'm sorry, but it'll only be for a moment."
"I know." She kissed his lips and ran a finger over his brow.
"Hold on to me." He pushed into her, and she sucked in a breath at the intrusion. He stilled, allowed her to adjust to him and then moved slowly until he was buried inside of her. "Are you all right?"
"Mmmm," she purred, "more than all right."
"You feel so good." He moaned and pressed into her as far as he could. He moved. She moved.
"Just like that," she murmured.
~ * ~
Buy Here
Blurb for Of Wolves and Men:
‘Cowboy’ Charlie Mosby worked on a horse ranch in Heber, Utah. He loved his work, the owners of the ranch, and his co-workers; wranglers who helped tourists with guided horse tours and trail riding all year round.
But after a chance meeting with a handsome gay man who had helped Charlie change a flat tire on Interstate 80 a month ago, Charlie was beginning to wonder about his sexuality. And if that wasn’t confusing enough, strange things were happening on the ranch.
Satanic worship? A strange cult ritual? Whatever it was, it wasn’t good for the owners or the horses on it.
One night Charlie stumbles upon Roman Burk in the woods, naked, bleeding and shivering in the cold. What Charlie never imagined was who -or what- Roman was. Even though the handsome stranger seemed to vanish at times and reappear as if by magic, Charlie was infatuated by this man.
Roman was fearful of revealing his secret. Most of all to a cowboy who was spending more time hunting him, than loving him.
In this shape-shifting story of sexual bonding and discovery, can both Charlie and Roman find what they’re looking for? It’s a question of honor; one that has been up for debate since the first time man set his eyes on this formidable predator. It’s about the mutual respect of Wolves and Men.
EXCERPT:
It was crisp and clear. The dark sky was covered in stars, far more than anyone near a city could see. As he made his way, his horse the only sound for miles, Charlie realized his buddy ‘Goat’ was right. Nothing seemed alive around him. Usually the songs of night birds or movements of nocturnal hunters were audible. Not tonight.
A chill rose to his skin, but it was under his jacket and not from the cold. He had never believed in supernatural mumbo-jumbo. Didn’t pay attention to local Indian legends, and certainly never believed in ghosts.
He drew near the area where he and Butch had repaired the fence. It was intact just as he had left it.
The ground was freezing up, and Spirit’s hooves snapped brittle twigs and made heavy clomps on the solid soil.
A whimper caught his attention. He stopped Spirit and listened.
A sensation stronger than chills hit him. It was borderline terror. He jumped off Spirit’s back and held the rein. After a few yards, Spirit refused to keep walking with him, rearing up but not in a violent way, just being stubborn. Charlie trusted his horse’s instinct. He stopped too.
Another whimper, a very human voice, shocked him. Spirit would not approach with him, so he dropped the rein and hurried towards the sound.
In the dimmest of the sliver of moonlight, Charlie found a man, naked, in the fetal position, shivering.
“Son of a bitch!” He rushed to his side and found blood spattering him. “Talk to me! Where’re you hurt?” Charlie touched the man’s arm.
Immediately the man’s brilliant green eyes met his.
“Hang on! Hang on!” Charlie rushed back to Spirit who was looking nervous, the whites of his eyes showing. “Calm down, buddy. Don’t you go crazy on me now.” Charlie took a blanket off the saddle and hurried back. He wrapped it around the shivering man.
“What the hell you doin out here in this cold? You will get hypothermia.” Charlie tried to warm him.
“F…f…freezing…”
“No wonder!” Charlie tucked the blanket closer around him. “I need to get you out of here.”
“No…no police…”
“Look. I just want to get you warm, all right?”
The man nodded.
“Where’s that blood comin’ from?” Charlie began to check the man over. Though he was thinking only of the man’s wellbeing, this man was at least six feet tall, and built like he had weight lifted at a gym all his life. His hair was jet black and his jaw had dark designer stubble covering it. He looked like a city boy, out of his element.
Charlie tucked the blanket high on the man’s chest and inspected his legs for some kind of wound. His thighs were wide and muscular, his pubic hair as black as his head hair, and the glance Charlie got of his crotch was enough to know this man was big everywhere. “Come on, partner. I got to get you warm. Can you stand?”
The man nodded, struggling to sit upright.
“You got a name?” Charlie hauled the man to his feet, feeling his weight leaning heavily on him.
“Roman. Roman Burk.” The man’s teeth chattered.
“How on earth did you get here and why?” Charlie walked Roman to Spirit.
The horse backed up, snorting as if in fear.
“Hang on. He’s all spooked.” Charlie grabbed Spirit’s rein and had to drag him closer. “What’s with you, boy! Calm down.”
The horse shifted like a nervous colt, not staying still for a second. “Spirit! Hold on. Hold on, boy.” Charlie dragged Spirit closer to Roman by the chin strap, angry the horse was making a bad situation worse. “Come on, Roman. You climb on. Just step into my hand.”
Roman and Spirit seemed to lock gazes. It was the oddest thing Charlie had ever seen. “Come on, Roman, he’s all right.”
Clinging to the blanket, Roman seemed as reluctant to get on Spirit as Spirit was for him to ride him. “Will you both calm down?” Charlie had no idea this would be an issue. He yelled at the horse, “You gonna make me call and wake someone up? Now behave.” He reached out to Roman. “Come on.”
Roman moved closer.
“Climb up. I got you.” Charlie cupped his hands for Roman to step into it and get on the saddle.
Spirit was about to protest, but Charlie jerked his bridle to prevent it. He swung up behind Roman and put his feet into the stirrups. It took some persuading but finally Spirit began heading back down the trail.
Charlie felt Roman leaning back on him, so he held him close with one arm. “Why are you up here? You know, you picked a bad time to be getting lost naked in the woods, Roman. There’s some mighty odd things going on lately. You’re lucky I found you when I did.”
“Thank you.”
It was so softly spoken, Charlie just caught it. Roman’s hair brushed his lips as they rode back.
“Thank you, Charlie.”
“I’ll take care of you…” Charlie blinked. “I don’t remember telling you my name.” Did he? He must have.
“I know. I know you will, Charlie. You’ll take good care of me.”
“Have we met?” Charlie felt a strange sensation in his body.
“I’m so cold.”
Charlie held him tighter. It was the best he could do with one arm. He didn’t know where he was going. The hospital? Vernon’s house?
“Your cabin. Please.”
“Are you reading my mind?” Charlie laughed but he was slightly rattled.
“Please.”
“You don’t fret. I’ll take care of you.”
“Thank you, Charlie. I know you will. That’s why I chose you.”
Charlie imagined the cold was making Roman slightly delusional. He heard hypothermia did that. Made you hallucinate.
He rode to the barn, dismounting and helping Roman do the same. He tightened the blanket around Roman and quickly got the saddle off Spirit. Spirit was still acting like a mass of nerves, staring at Roman like Charlie had never seen him look at another human before.
He shut the lights in the barn and held Roman around the waist as he hurried with him to his cabin. “Almost there.”
“I know.”
Charlie opened his door and locked it behind them. “I’ll get the fire going, you go take a hot shower, ya hear me?”
Roman dropped the blanket, standing naked before him.
Charlie gulped audibly. “You…you need me to show you where everything is?”
Roman stalked him.
Charlie backed up near the fireplace. The blood spatter was in a strange pattern. Light, as if Roman was standing beside something else that was shot, or cut. But Charlie kept being drawn to Roman’s eyes. The intensity of the color, the power of the stare was hypnotic.
Roman put one hand against the cabin’s exposed wooden beams, over Charlie’s head. He brushed his lips against Charlie’s lightly.
“Sweet mother of god, I got me another gay boy.” Charlie gulped and his cock went thick in his jeans.
